A report from the grave
by Manatauro
Summary: Something happened.. Something terrible...why don't you come over and find out what happened... In the tragic night of October 31st? (Sorry for probably having the category and subcategory wrong. Didn't have what I wanted. It is American Horror Story Styled, but not from it)


**A report from the grave**

You probably know how it is…well if you're law enforcement you do. October 31st…kids going nuts about Halloween…most of them doing things they shouldn't. The chief called me over to the precinct to work a double shift. I had nothing better to do…no family to go to…so I took the extra cash.

I was sitting on the chair, cleaning my sidearm. It's a nice clean Colt M1911 .45 ACP coated black and with a mounting rail, you know…just in case *chuckles*. It seemed like it was a normal day, well not normal in NYC standards…but you know, quiet…seems like Mission Impossible in the Big Apple but I didn't complaint. After the gun is complete I lean back in mu chair, relaxing. Soon after I'm done the phone rang. I quickly picked it up, the silence and boredom in one hand calming me, making me think I was safe, that everything was alright…than again it also made it look like danger lurked. Turns out the caller was the big man upstairs.

"Raymond, we got a noise complaint downtown, Pamela will give you the address" the chief told me. Be was bossy but he sure as hell knew how to get stuff running around here.

"10-4" I answer. It pretty much means some army bullshit like «Roger that» or some crap of the sort. I get up, put my gun on the holster and head to the reception. A secretary was there. She had large breasts, thighs that would make any man drool, beautiful crystal like blue eyes , blonde, long hair and a face that looked like it was touched by an angel. She used to be on the field, till the day a punk put two in her and forced her to be a cop the only way she could. Doctor told her she couldn't go to the field…not that would make her any less of a fighter or make her a crippled. Behind those beautiful eyes was a killer attitude. She's the type of gal that most people would consider a female version of Martin Riggs, an angel with a shotgun, I guess. She used to love that 12 gauge. Besides being the girl every guy in the force looked at, she was also the gal I loved.

"Hey Pam…Chief said you had an address for me"

She reached for a drawer and gave me a file "there you go, White. Anything else you need?"

I look at her and smile, feeling confident "You don't need to be all professional with me. We know each other since high school. Just call m Ray." She nodded and I made my move. "So…I'm gonna cut the shit and go straight to the point. You wanna go for dinner tomorrow after work?"

She looked at me a bit hesitantly while thinking, before taking a deep breath "ten PM. Don't be late."

I smile and walk outside, and into my '67 Mustang, only thing my pops left me. I turn it on and go to the address, a little house in the Bronx. I look around, taking a good look at the place. It was dark and foggy, and the house was pretty torn up. I knocked on the door, nobody answered. I looked through windows, anything I could use to take a peek inside. Looked like they place was abandoned and this was another prank call. Stupid kids…

I start going to my car, and the moment I walked in, I heard a woman's terrified scream. It scared the shit out of me, and I quickly realized the source was the house. I get my radio "This is Tango William 6-10, I just heard a woman scream from the house I was called to, moving in and requesting backup" I put down the radio and force the door open with a kick and walk in, Colt in my hands. I look in every direction until I hear a sobbing child. It was somehow loud, as if it echoed in my mind, but at the same time it was directional, coming from the basement. I slowly open the door and turn on the lights, to reveal a horrifying sight of brains and guts inside jars, a child standing knelt down in the middle of the room. I walked to it, and as I get I range, I hear some laughter, getting thicker, more like an adult. The child's head turned 180° facing me and revealing bright red eyes. I gasp as the child also shows sharp teeth and claws "you should run…I want to play!" he said in an evil manner. I do so and make a run for the door.

As soon as I open the door, my eyes widened and blood spattered in my face. I look down and see a chainsaw, dug deep into my chest being held by a figure with a slim body, devil wings, a pointy tail and a pair of horns in its head, along with a mask. It came to my ear and whispered "It's the Devil with a Chainsaw" it said, followed by a cute laughter l. I shortly died when it twitched the weapon inside me.

Rest in peace, Raymond White born November 1, 1985, killed October 31st, 2016.

 **A N: Ok guys this was a short story I decided to do for Halloween (sorry I'm late, had no internet). I tried doing a horror/mystery thing x but it's my first time in that area so I apologize if it doesn't live up to expectations. I'll leave you with a question though, that I think there is enough clues for you to guess. Can you guess who is the murderer? I won't be posting any more chapters of this (unless you want me to, which in that case I guess I can cook something up). On that said have a good night/day/afternoon. Manatauro out.**


End file.
